2025: The Year We Dial It In

By Rebecca Green

Over a decade ago, I started doing this ritual where at the beginning of January, I would give the upcoming new year a title, a theme of sorts, meant to set the tone for the year ahead without knowing what was to come. While the title was vague at the start of the year, by the time December came around, the theme always rang true. For example, 2013 was titled “The Year Anything Can Happen,” which was the year my mom died. 2014 was “The Year Everything Changes,” which was when IT FOLLOWS premiered at the Cannes Film Festival altering the course of my career. Other titles included The Year Nothing Good Gets Away, The Year I Strike Gold, and The Year It Finally Happens, which all had outcomes I didn’t expect, but in hindsight, were on brand.

In wondering what would be a good title for 2025, I thought of a phrase regularly used by one of my favorite line producers (and longtime friend from college), Jennifer Haire, which is to “dial it in.” If a meeting is going off course, “dial it in.” If our budget is getting bloated, “dial it in.” If we have thoughts of grandeur, “dial it in.” Jennifer uses the phrase to tell us when we need to focus or be more efficient, when we need to be more decisive and decide what matters, or when we need to hone in on our vision.

Last week, as the residents of Los Angeles were being told to evacuate quickly, to take only what was necessary from their homes, to decide what sentimental items were most important to them, they were also being asked to “dial it in.” So I’m giving 2025 the title “The Year We Dial It In.” Rather than wait to see what the title reveals at the end of the year, I pondered the areas I believe filmmakers need to “dial it in” for 2025 and share my top four with you here…

THE STORES YOU WANT TO TELL

It’s time to be honest with ourselves and admit that we are making too many films each year. In 2001, the year I graduated film school, the number of Sundance Film Festival submissions was 3,934 with 220 films screened. By 2023, that number jumped to a whopping 15,855 submissions with 178 films screened. You have a better chance of getting into Harvard (3.4% for the class of 2025) than Sundance (1.12% for the 2023 festival).

In order to capture the attention of audiences, we need to be more selective about the films we are making. In the Golden Globes Best Motion Picture acceptance speech for THE BRUTALIST, director Brady Corbet said, "No one was asking for a three and a half hour film about a mid-century designer — on 70mm — but it works!" One could argue whether or not it worked, but what is absolutely clear from every speech Brady has given, or interview he has done, is that with every ounce of his being, every single second of the seven years it took to make the film, he knew he had to tell this story, whether anyone agreed with him or not. This is the passion I’m looking for from filmmakers in 2025.

Every filmmaker needs to interrogate why they are making their film. Ask yourself, if you could only make one film for the rest of your life, would this be it? Are you making cinema or just another movie someone will enjoy on a plane or streaming on their phone? Like Brady, does everything in you believe that your story needs to exist? If we want audiences to value our work, we have to insist from each other that what we are making is essential and spectacular.

EXPECTATIONS

My mom always said to me, “I don’t know how you work in the film business, there is so much disappointment.” And she wasn’t wrong, but a lot of times the disappointment is self-inflicted. Somewhere along the way (probably with the invention of digital cameras and iPhones) everyone decided they could be a filmmaker. There are countless filmmaker labs around the globe and every college now has a film program. It’s estimated that 50,000 college students graduate with a film degree each year. As someone who teaches for many of these labs and universities, don’t get me wrong, I deeply believe in arts education. Beyond learning how to make a film, students develop critical thinking skills and media literacy and they are encouraged to expand their curiosity and express themselves creatively, all which I believe create a better world in which to live. But despite the odds of getting into Sundance, almost every filmmaker I meet, whether film student or years into their career, believes their film is getting accepted into a major festival, that A24 or Neon is acquiring it, and that it’s going to be an awards contender. Every writer believes their film is getting accepted into the prestigious Sundance Screenwriting Lab even though in 2024, they received 3,400 submissions and only accepted 12 projects (that is a 0.35% acceptance rate since we’re doing math today). As filmmakers, we do need to be a little delusional to do what we do, but we also need to reign in our expectations and acknowledge the vast amount of people who are dreaming the same dream. Being a filmmaker is a long and never-ending road of sharpening your tools, expanding your worldview, and building your community. It is essential to align your expectations and dreams with who you are as a unique storyteller, your current skill set, your experiences, and your network. If you don’t, you will continually set yourself up for disappointment and take too many punches in the face to stay the course.

FINANCIAL STABILITY

What I witnessed most in 2024 was filmmakers panicking about their finances. Despite Dear Producer publishing the Producers Sustainability Report in 2021, with data unequivocally stating that producing is not sustainable, we are still expecting it to be. Being a filmmaker, at any level and in any position, is not a reliable career. We are freelance artists who are valued on a film by film basis. Yes, when we are employed we should be adequately compensated, but none of us are guaranteed our next film. Yes, there are those who make a lot of money in this business, but it is a small fraction of people. And if the last few years of layoffs taught us anything, it is that this is an unstable industry for everyone. While I believe in the power of storytelling, if there wasn’t a single film or television show made in 2025, the world would go on, there is enough pre-existing content to keep audiences entertained. This is why I believe that if you want to do this work, you must also pave a separate way to finance your life. Not a back-up plan or side hustle, rather what I call a “parallel path.” A career you build alongside your filmmaking aspirations that supports you financially. Ideally, this parallel path lends itself to your filmmaking in some capacity by honing your skills, building your network, or inspiring you. Regardless, it is essential to have a source of income outside of filmmaking. Expecting your art to sustain you financially will only extinguish your creative spark, increase anxiety, and cause you to make decisions out of desperation.

COMMUNITY

What we have witnessed in the aftermath of the Los Angeles Wildfires is the power of community. A group of people who share a love for LA, and who have collectively experienced devastation and loss, are lifting each other up from the ashes. Not even two weeks since the fires began, it’s impossible to count the number of donation drives, GoFundMe campaigns, and Google docs of resources. This speaks to the level of the disaster, but also to the value and necessity of building and investing in your community.

We all use the phrase “the film community” lightly, but what does it actually mean? You run into the same people at film festivals and award shows or you meet on Zooms, you know a little about each other’s lives and watch each other’s films, but is that considered community? In my eyes, true community is a long-term commitment that requires active participation. It means showing up for people in crisis and in celebration and in the quiet moments when nothing in life is happening. The people in my community have been there for me in both the highs and lows of my career. We share common goals and help each other advance forward, but we’re not keeping score or expecting anything in return. We don’t value each other based on the quality of our films, rather the kindness in our hearts and the compassion we show each other.

Through the work I’ve done with the Sundance Institute, Film Independent, the Producers Union, Producers United, and all the films I have worked on and many other organizations who have supported me, I have built a tremendous community of producers who I rely on and who I know rely on me. I don’t believe I would have gotten this far in my career if I did not have these people in my life. I encourage all of you to spend time this year identifying and investing in your specific community.

We’re not even three weeks into January and it’s already knocked us on our asses in so many ways. Let’s dial it in by focusing on what's most important, by continuing to show up for each other, and by fighting to help shape the world for the better through undeniable storytelling.